


Intruder

by Cloudy



Series: The Devil is a Gentleman [5]
Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Also Kaito is way too good at finding trouble. As we all know., Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armagnac's playing a little catch and release ;), Black Org Saguru, Gen, black org au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy/pseuds/Cloudy
Summary: Kaito finally gets a name to put to the organization operative's face, and learns that Armagnac knows a lot more about him than he'd like. They meet face to face and try to have a civil conversation.
Relationships: Hakuba Saguru & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Series: The Devil is a Gentleman [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097753
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Intruder

Kaito had completely had it with this guy’s surprise appearances. His cryptic clues, his arrogance, he was going to figure out what was underneath it no matter what.

So naturally, his next move in this game was going to be to do everything he could to figure him out. Kaito learned quickly that the stranger was great at disappearing into thin air. The guy maybe even rivalled his own abilities there, minus a lack of theatrics.

At the very least, the operative didn’t get the jump on him again while Kaito was trying to track him.

Problem was, it was really difficult to tail him. Kaito wasn’t sure if the operative knew he was being followed—or knew _who_ was following if he did, but regardless Kaito could never seem to keep the tail for very long. Eventually he’d always have to tuck himself out of sight for fear of being caught, and in his own evasive maneuvers would end up losing the man.

It took nights and nights of trying and failing before Kaito finally managed to get some leeway. It was a phone call that gave him an opening in the end.

The path he’d taken was so meandering that Kaito honestly had no clue what the man’s goal might have been. It seemed almost like there was a pattern to the route, like maybe he was walking some sort of patrol, since sometimes his route doubled on itself. Maybe, Kaito speculated, the agent was keeping watch for somebody.

But his apparent patrol was halted when he had to take a phone call. Kaito hadn’t heard the phone ring, wasn’t close enough to catch the vibrate, so when Kaito saw him still, he wondered for a heart-stopping moment that he’d been caught. But he kept himself out of sight on his perch as he watched the man withdraw his phone and answer it.

Kaito wished he could make out the conversation. All he could catch were snatches of sound, and sometimes that sound took on form. Most of it was, at least, in Japanese. Kaito caught, “All clear,” and some inane phrase that he figured was probably encoded, something about retrieval, and including the word _Aperol_ , which seemed like a total non sequitur. Only more reason to assume he was speaking in code.

Technically, Kaito should leave alone, but the whole point of following the agent around was to get more information, and he wasn’t learning a thing from trying to eavesdrop.

Feeling no less out of the loop than before the phone conversation, Kaito lost patience and decided to speak up. From his vantage point, he was still in shadow, and he could count at least three different potential exits if things got messy.

“Whatcha doin’?” If nothing else, at least the asshole had the decency to jump in surprise.

Less satisfying was the gun suddenly trained on him when he whirled. Chilled, but keeping his poker face firmly intact, Kaito flashed a grin and held up his hands. “Easy, it’s just the star of your favorite show! No tricks up my sleeve.” Not necessarily true, but he wasn’t going to pull anything yet.

He couldn’t quite read the stranger’s expression in the dark, but the gun lowered with a click. The safety? Was the safety off when it was pointed at him? Was it off now? Yikes.

“Of course it’s you,” he muttered, quiet enough that, were every ounce of Kaito’s attention not already trained on him, he might not have heard it. “You’re very clever most of the time, you know. However, it isn’t so clever to be following me when I’m at work.” Dry and annoyed and aggravatingly uncaring. Kaito changed his mind: the reaction earlier was not enough. What will it take to flap him?

“Hey, for the record, I’m pretty sure you were following me first. I mean, mysteriously showing up at heists?”

Something in the guy’s posture changed. “You need to go, now.”

Kaito’s instincts told him that there was a perfectly good reason for this. However, he didn’t take well to being told what he ‘needed’ to do, especially not from stalkers who had no business being as interesting as this guy.

“What, so you can get to whatever it is you were planning to do in this sketchy alleyway?” Kaito slid down from his position now, deciding to do the exact opposite of what he was told in favor of the fact that this guy had no business ordering him around. Landing neatly on the ground, he put his hands in his pockets. Easy, relaxed, smirking. “I don’t think you’re in any business to be making demands.”

The guy sharpened, intense, advancing on him more quickly than Kaito anticipated. He started to back up, and the man snarled, “You really do have a death wish, don’t you? Do you possess a single ounce of sense?”

His nerves were shrieking warning bells. Kaito wanted to run, but he found himself cornered. Started calculating the best way to leap out of dodge. He just needed a distraction—

A gun’s safety clicking off and, almost simultaneous, the agent before him swore harshly under his breath. He muttered something Kaito wouldn’t have been able to make out if he wasn’t already hyper aware from adrenaline, _“What a mess_.”

Beyond the man’s shoulder, at the other end of the alley, stood a similarly suspicious person, just a silhouette from this distance. “What’d you find, Armagnac?” said the shadow.

The guy before him—Armagnac, apparently—squared his shoulders. He moved as if he might be reaching for his own weapon. Ah, hell. “Just…a minor inconvenience.”

Weirdly, despite how nonchalant he sounded, Armagnac seemed to be looking to Kaito with—urgency? Alarm? Fear? Which didn’t make sense at all.

_It’s in both of our best interests if you stay alive._

“Well, let’s take care of it, then,” said the other man.

Armagnac started to glance over his shoulder, away from Kaito. “Hold—” he started, but Kaito didn’t wait, letting his terror propel him _away_. Armagnac swore again.

Gunfire.

More swearing.

In the same instant, Kaito felt a vicious grip on him, hard enough to bruise. Something sharp, and he was hurled to the ground, the sound of the gunshot echoing in his ears, his vision blurring into tunnels, pinpoint, dark.

He didn’t feel like he’d been shot, there wasn’t a scratch on him, but he was fading anyway? Panic clawed its way through him, and distant he heard something like an exclamation.

Then another gunshot, far away, as if at the other end of a tunnel.

Then, nothing. Sleep dragged him down.

He woke up in his bed. It was still dark out.

Shortly after waking, Kaito’s brain reminded him what, exactly, was so wrong with this picture.

He was in _his bed_ . The last place he’d been was that alleyway. With that guy— _Armagnac_.

Armagnac, and some other person who had been ready to shoot him. Unbidden by him, Kaito found himself up and pacing now as he tried to puzzle it out. Considering the situation, he should be dead right now. Or captured? Why was he here, and totally untouched at that?

Well, _untouched_ wasn’t exactly right. He was still in the clothes he’d been wearing last night, short of his shoes and his jacket. And his arm was skinned a little where it’d met pavement as he (poorly) caught himself in his apparent stupor.

So instead of killing or catching him, Armagnac had drugged him and brought him back home? His brain drew an uncomfortable parallel to catch and release animal research, and he shuddered. Maybe he should check his house for bugs.

The fact that Armagnac knew where he lived at all was another level of horror altogether. If Armagnac knew to bring him here, that meant he knew who Kaito was. Knew he was the person behind KID. Was it a power play? But it had seemed pretty clear that whatever organization Snake worked for… well, Snake wanted him dead. Armagnac had claimed that he had some kind of association to them, so why would he want something different? Maybe he thought Kaito alive would be a more likely lead to Pandora.

Armagnac’s coworker, or whatever, had even seemed pretty keen on ending him then and there, though.

Kaito remembered the gunfire, Armagnac pulling him out of the way. It didn’t seem like that scenario could have been choreographed, since Armagnac didn’t even know Kaito would be there. So had Armagnac done something contrary to whatever protocol he was supposed to follow? And what did that mean? What happened to that other agent? Kaito tried his best not to think too hard about the other gunshot he’d heard as he lost consciousness.

_It’s in both of our best interests if you stay alive._

And what did Armagnac want from him? Why would he put so much at risk?

Kaito had almost no answers and exponentially more questions than before. He peered out his window—day was just beginning to dawn, and there were no suspicious cars or people positioned anywhere he could see from here…

Well, time for a bug sweep. Then he’d have to try to get to the bottom of this.

—

This was swiftly proving to be quite the entanglement. Even as he was certain it would be worth it, Armagnac couldn’t help but resent the mess he’d made for himself. Of course, he didn’t think he would do anything differently—didn’t think he could. Kuroba Kaito was far too valuable a piece to lose from such a foolish misstep.

What he had to do now was prevent such missteps from happening again. Armagnac had already silenced one agent too many. It was time to lay out some ground rules. Besides, surely Kuroba wanted an explanation. Armagnac could at least answer some questions, if not all. Maybe it would even breed some trust.

So of course, the logical conclusion was a house call.

Armagnac figured he’d go about it politely. Although, there was a good chance Kuroba was at school. 

He rang the bell anyway.

And then he listened.

When nobody answered, he decided he may as well just let him in. All the better, really, since he figured if Kuroba _had_ been home and skipping class, he’d likely sooner employ some clever exit strategy than face him. He already knew how to find his way inside, after having to do so when he dragged the other boy’s unconscious body home. If Kuroba returned with company he’d simply show himself out before anyone could notice him.

Armagnac’s efforts were rewarded when he heard the door open, followed by Kuroba Kaito’s call, “ _Tadaima!_ ”

To whom, he wondered. His lips quirked upward and he fought off the urge to call _Okaeri_ right back.

He’d made himself comfortable in Kuroba’s kitchen. His plan had been to slip out the rear entrance—nearby and not visible from the front door—if that Nakamori girl who was friends with Kuroba made an appearance. Ironic, that relationship. He imagined it was likely painful for Kuroba.

He listened for Kuroba’s footfalls. From the sound of it, Kuroba was coming right for him and didn’t have anyone along, which was ideal. Just before the other boy turned the corner, Armagnac deliberately cleared his throat.

The footsteps ceased.

The silence stretched.

“It’s only me,” Armagnac said, and he couldn’t quite keep the purr out of his voice when he said it. There was something so gratifying about being the one to keep the trickster on his toes.

“What the hell.”

Kuroba turned the corner then, hard-edged and wound tight. His school bag slung over his shoulder, his outer uniform shirt disheveled and partially undone, revealing a portion of some blue t-shirt underneath. His displeasured greeting was flat, but his stance gave away his tension regardless.

No card gun. He wondered if the other boy carried it with him in his school bag or not. It seemed like it could be terribly implicating.

“After the _mishap_ last night, I felt it pertinent to pay a visit. There are a few things we ought to straighten out.”

He wondered if Kuroba would try to deny it. Instead, though, he said, “What, so you just came over and waited in my kitchen while I was at school like some kind of stalker? It’s not like I’m the only one who comes here.”

Kuroba was afraid. It lined the edge of his voice even as he tried to smooth himself into flippant annoyance, nonchalance.

Armagnac propped his head boredly in the palm of his hand. He held up his other hand and raised his index finger as he said, “Nakamori Aoko: otherwise occupied today with some obligation or another involving your classmate Momoi Keiko.” Raised two more. “Ginzo Nakamori—at work. Jii Konosuke, likewise.” And a fourth, “Kuroba Chikage is overseas, doing some continent hopping, so I can’t imagine there’s any reason to expect her home.” He set both hands on the countertop and straightened his posture. “Other than that, I’m not under the impression that you get many visitors at all, so forgive me for assuming that I wouldn’t be interrupting anything too important, but I do think we both recognize that I was, at least, correct.”

Kuroba had blanched as soon as he’d dropped the Nakamori girl’s name, and seemed to be waging war with himself through the rest of it as he maintained threadbare composure. Silence—nineteen seconds’ worth—before Kuroba said, “What do you want.”

“What do I want?” He drawled. “Let’s start with this: you to not interrupt me at work.”

Kuroba’s hand twitched, but nothing happened. Armagnac reminded himself that he should remember to keep an eye on movements like that. Kuroba’s sleight of hand far surpassed his own.

“Oh, but you can interrupt me when I’m doing business of my own, huh?”

“One of these things could get you and I killed, whereas the latter…is relatively harmless, hm?”

“So I’m just supposed to be okay with you showing up whenever you want? Great, that sounds totally fair.” His voice was caustic.

Armagnac could point out that nothing about this had to be fair. They didn’t need to be having this conversation at all. He could turn this entire situation on its head and put an end to Kuroba Kaito right now, and he could cover his tracks without anyone ever finding out. If he did it right, nobody would even think Kuroba was dead or missing for a few weeks. And just as easily, he could withdraw now without doing a thing, without ever coming into contact with the boy again, and then Kuroba would be back to his floundering.

He didn’t like either of those options, and neither would Kuroba.

“Let’s not get lost in the details,” he demurred, folding his hands together. “I have a very good reason for intruding. And I will grant you the benefit of the doubt; I’m sure you’re only trying to get yourself killed because you are looking for answers.” Kuroba twitched irritably. Winding him up was really quite fun. “I have the ability to help you find more of those answers. And I believe in doing so we might discover some of our goals align. If we can cooperate, I don’t have to surprise you so much.” As he said this, he gestured at their surroundings.

Kuroba had the immense benefit of being so severely underestimated by the organization that they didn’t so much as look at him. KID was a joke, so far as the organization cared, only worth the attentions of Snake and his men. Armagnac was glad the syndicate could be so blinded by their own hubris. Correctly harnessed, the mind behind Kaitou KID could do some remarkable damage. The tricky part would be finding the right way to use those skills without hurling him into the organization’s sights.

Kuroba scoffed derisively, and Armagnac smiled patiently at him. The other tricky part would be actually succeeding at maneuvering him the way Armagnac wanted to. “Riiiight, so. You give me answers, in exchange for _what_ , exactly. You still haven’t actually told me what you want. I’m not going to agree to cooperate with you if I don’t know what that means.”

 _Technically_ , Kuroba wasn’t really in a position to agree or disagree. Armagnac had made clear that he knew enough about Kuroba’s personal life to do some serious damage, if he felt so inclined. But to turn the implicit threat explicit was sure to do more damage than good, especially since he wasn’t all that interested in terrorizing civilians and it wasn’t a threat he wanted to have to make good on. He inclined his head to the side boredly. “You are a man of particular talent. I'd like to see what you do with the information I give you. Rest assured I have no expectation for you to act in allegiance with the people you are so clearly working against.”

“—But you’re _with_ them,” Kuroba blurted, sounding dubious.

“Am I?”

Kuroba let out an exasperated noise. “You work with Snake’s superiors ‘on occasion.’ You said. Whatever _that_ means.”

Armagnac kept still, his hands still folded in front of him. After a moment’s consideration, he said, “It means I typically have bigger things to worry about than deigning to give his department the time of day.”

“Uh-huh,” Kuroba said, drawing out the noise. His eyes were narrowed. He was standing on the balls of his feet, ready to move, had been throughout the entire conversation. He seemed hard-pressed to turn to a nervous tic, but too conscious of his actions to really start to do it. His fingers kept twitching as if he wanted to fiddle with something. He could just as easily be gearing up for a trick, though. “So…bigger fish to fry. If you’re so important, and Snake _isn’t_ , why bother with me?”

“Plenty of us have our own agendas. Like I said: I’d like to see what you do with the information I might have for you, Kuroba-san.” He twitched a little at the sound of his name, even though by this point it couldn’t be remotely surprising that Armagnac had it. “I'll refrain from making assumptions as to what your motives are, as clear as they may seem to me, but rest assured none of my interest lies in gemstones or wealth.”

Kuroba made a frustrated noise, like the answer didn’t really make him feel better. Armagnac was willing to bet he was itching to know more about Pandora. Tersely, he said, “Sure. Whatever. So what information _can_ you give me, anyway, Armagnac?”

Ah, so he’d caught it earlier. Armagnac kept back any sense of being surprised, his mouth spreading into a conspiratorial smile.

“Let’s start with this,” Armagnac said, leaning forward. “The people you’re working against right now are one head of a much greater beast. What _Snake_ wants isn’t necessarily explicitly the same as what the organization at large is after. KID makes for quite the distraction, but you might consider seeing what you can do with your skills outside of a spotlight. When opportune, I’m certain I could lend the information necessary for you to do what you do best and interfere.”

Kuroba didn’t trust that Armagnac would really give him the chance to work against Snake or the organization at large, but Armagnac was sure that the other boy would be too intrigued not to look into anything Armagnac handed him. It was a fragile dynamic at best, but Armagnac could work with it.

“With this in mind, let’s establish some ground rules.” Kuroba rolled his eyes. Armagnac pressed on. “As I said before, I can’t have you interrupting my work. You made things very messy for me, before, and I can’t afford to go to such extents to cover for you all the time. Likewise, I’ll do my best to refrain from surprising you when you’re going about your…personal business, although at times that may be the only good way for me to get in touch.” Phones could be bugged and a text trail was not going to be the thing that ruined him.

Kuroba said, slowly, “So, no tailing you. And you won’t corner me out of nowhere. _And_ you won’t break into my house again.”

The corner of Armagnac’s mouth turned up in a wry smirk. “…I will do what I can to refrain from breaking into your house in the future.”

Kuroba groaned, but didn’t needle it further. Armagnac presumed he probably just wanted the interaction to be over. He was still thrumming with alertness.

“I’m glad we could have this talk,” Armagnac said, getting up, keeping his movements slow so as not to startle Kuroba into trying something and souring their fragile dynamic. “For now, I’ll take my leave.” He reached into his pocket—Kuroba stiffened—and withdrew a burner phone. “Use this to get a hold of me, if necessary. The number you’ll need is in there.” He placed it into the counter, and began to make his departure. As he made his way out of the room, Kuroba spoke.

“Isn’t there another name you have, other than some weird code name?” His tone turned almost petulant, as if he could already see the answering ‘No,’ taking form. “Would it hurt you to level the playing field, a little?”

 _State your name_ , and silence and the answering pain, on loop. _I don’t have one_ , followed by _relief, finally_. Memory, blindsiding him.

“I assure you, that’s the only one that matters.” It isn’t as if the names printed on any of his identifying documents held any weight.

He heard Kuroba begin to protest, but didn’t wait around to hear him out.


End file.
